


See Me in Silent Hill

by The_Samurai_Prince



Category: Gravity Falls, Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: But this will be a Dipper/Pacifica all the way, Can't say anymore!, Don't want to spoil!, F/M, Gen, It will turned M rated soon though., Other, There will be some minor Dipper/Wendy moments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Samurai_Prince/pseuds/The_Samurai_Prince
Summary: He has to find her...who knows where she could be. The letter told her to find her in a town called Silent Hill. What is she doing there? And...is she really there? Will he finally be able to see her again?[Betaed and edited by CrazyClouds! :D ]
Relationships: Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez/Melody, Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines, Wendy Corduroy/Dipper Pines
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Gravity Falls is owned by Disney and Alex Hirsh. Silent Hill is owned by Konami. I'm just writing this for fun. X)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper receives a letter...and finds where it leads him. All the while meeting up with an old friend.

_**SEE ME IN SILENT HILL** _

* * *

Dipper had read the letter a hundred times, polishing his glasses every five reads to make sure the non-existent smudges weren't interfering with his already-poor vision. Backwards and forwards, front and back. He ran it through every codex he could think of, performing all manner of tests for invisible ink. But there was nothing. No hidden messages. No clues. Just a message carrying the name of a small town in the northeast.

It was probably a false lead. Someone's idea of a sick joke...Or maybe even a trap. He'd made his fair share of enemies over the years- interfering in the matters of the paranormal tended to that. Unfortunately, Dipper never really had a choice. No matter where he went, or what he did, weird things always seemed to follow him. Such was life as a supernatural investigator.

He was used to it by now. In fact, he couldn't really imagine living any other way.

Dipper started his career when he was twenty-five; the youngest paranormal detective in the business. Very intelligent, he excelled in his college courses while staying in Los Angeles, never taking a break...Well, maybe not never. Got to catch up on Ghost Harassers every now and then.

His classmates did find it weird that the brainiac of the university only wanted to study the basics of science, the essentials, just so he could learn the supernatural aspects of it. None of them questioned it for long, though, instead just passing Dipper off as a conspiracy theorist freak. But Dipper didn't care what other people thought. He studied what he was interested in, and going into this field was necessary if he wanted to become a professional like Ford. Or Stan, in a way. He loved using Stan's fisticuffs, which the old man had passed down to him when he and Mabel turned fifteen.

Stan was originally going to pass the brass knuckles down to Mabel, but he- thankfully- thought better of it. Aside from the fact that their parents wouldn't approve of their daughter being given a weapon, Mabel was much more likely to cause serious damage with them, despite how much she claimed to have self-control. Besides, Stan had been giving Dipper boxing lessons, so it made more sense for him to pass them to his protégé. Speaking of heirlooms, Ford also gave him one of his laser swords, so Dipper was all set for close-quarters confrontations. Mabel had been insanely jealous that her brother got such cool stuff, but the Grunkles made it up to her by passing down some of their other things, like Stan's boxing gloves, and Ford's laser watch, which had been altered to blast pepper spray. They even taught her the basics of fighting, and Ford helped her learn how to use her watch, so she would be able to fight off whatever monster came her way (Stan included obnoxious boys in that category).

_'I just hope…'_

Sitting in his rental car, he breathed a heavy sigh. Dipper slowly folded the letter back into its envelope and shoved it into his coat pocket. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, hands clenched around the sides. He screwed his eyes shut, and sucked in another long, tired breath. He'd gone through three time-zones, two flights, and had been driving close to three hours to reach his destination, leaving him utterly exhausted. He glanced at the clock on the car's dashboard; 8:20 PM.

It had been a long journey. He woke up around 4:30 AM to get to the San Francisco International Airport and board his 6 AM flight on time. To make matters worse, he hadn't been able to sleep the night before, or on either of his flights. He even watched two in-flight movies that he randomly picked during the trip to New York, both action films. He didn't really pay much attention to them, only focusing on the screen when something exploded. He had to do something on the flight, and apparently, sleep wasn't an option. He felt too wired to shut his eyes, determined to get to his final destination, ever since he received the letter in the mail.

_'It's been so long… Is this letter really from…?'_

Dipper slowly lifted his head to stare out the window, only to find that it was pitch black outside. He was parked at a rest stop on the interstate, joints stiff from sitting still for so long. Two hundred miles...He really should've stopped at one hundred, because right now, it seemed that sleep was finally catching up with him.

Pulling out his smartphone, Dipper lazily tapped on the screen a few times, pulling up a map of the area. Starting at the little marker on the screen labeled 'You Are Here', Dipper scrolled to his intended destination.

"Only another hour and a half," he muttered. His stomach rumbled, distracting him. Dipper frowned. "I really should get something to eat…" He stowed away his phone and started up the car. He'd keep driving for now, but he'd pull over when he saw a diner or a motel, he decided.

But why this town in Maine, though? How did…? Dipper shook his head, huffing out an exasperated breath, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

_'Why am I here? Was this just a huge waste of time?'_ He sat quietly in the car, the radio buzzing static, and the driver's seat rumbling underneath him. _'…I have to know.'_ Adjusting his glasses, he made up his mind. No turning back now.

He drove out of the rest stop and continued driving, keeping his gaze locked on the wide-open road in front of him. It seemed to go on forever, stretching out eternally into the darkness beyond. After a while, watching the white lines speed past became almost hypnotic. Feeling himself start to drift off, Dipper quickly lowered his window. and was greeted with a gust of cool air. Dipper shivered from the sudden chill, and shook his head to clear the haze of exhaustion. Taking a few sharp breaths, he did his best to focus on the road in front of him. Not long after, he noticed a lit-up sign in the distance, and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a diner just off the highway, right next to a small motel, just off the exit he had to take.

"That's convenient," Dipper mumbled, smiling a bit.

He drove the car to the exit, and made his way over to the buildings, the Konami Diner and the P.T. Motel. Parking in the vacant lot, he turned off his car, got out into the cold night, and was about to walk to the diner, until he paused. He patted his brown trench coat for a moment, finding that his wallet was there, along with something strapped around his shoulder and chest.

'Better safe than sorry,' Dipper thought grimly, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Being a paranormal adventurer, being paranoid was par for the course, and for something like this… He didn't want to take any chances. So, he bought a gun and a shoulder harness with a holster at a pawn shop back in Augusta. Strapping it on to himself, he felt like one of those old-school noir film detectives, with the trench coat attire and everything. Especially since he was going into an empty diner. All he really needed now was an old-school Cuban cigar to complete the look. Too bad he never took up smoking, nor did he plan to. The dream would have to stay as just that; a dream.

Dipper had earned his gun license around the same time he officially became a private investigator. And yet, even now, two years later, he couldn't help but feel a little wary when he held a gun in his hands. So far, he had only ever used his gun a handful of times, and only when defending himself from monsters. He hadn't used it on a person yet, and for that, he was more than grateful. But whenever he picked up the weapon, he couldn't help but wonder… What if now was the time?

Taking his mind off of that, he glanced at the diner ahead of him.

The diner itself was a little retro looking, which Dipper appreciated. He had a thing for old diners- they reminded him of Greasy's Diner, back in Gravity Falls. The thought of the small town put a little smile on his face, as it did every time, without fail. The months he'd spent in Gravity Falls during those summers were some of the best days of his life. He remembered all the people he met there when he was younger, going on adventures and solving mysteries.

He recalled Soos, the lovable man-child, always giving him wacky words of advice and making him laugh. And it had been way back, after Dipper and Mabel have turned nineteen, that Soos finally proposed to Melody. She'd been helping Soos with the Shack every summer, and after four years, she decided to move to Gravity Falls to be closer to him. Three years of dating later, they got engaged. Even more exciting, Soos had wanted Dipper to be the best man. The couple postponed their wedding until the next year, at the end of August, when the twins came back to Gravity Falls after their sophomore year in university. They'd just turned twenty. Dipper was really happy for his big buddy and wished him all the best.

He also thought fondly of Wendy. All the times he hung out with her, whether it be at the diner, the woods, the Shack- any place that was a good hanging spot, really. She was his first crush, and she held a special place in his heart. Aside from that, though, she was an awesome friend.

He remembered the other friends he made there, like McGucket, Mabel's besties Candy and Grenda- heck, even Robbie and Gideon had become likeable enough to be around. At least, Dipper tolerated them. And lastly, Pacifica, who came to Gravity Falls whenever she had the chance. The Northwests had moved to Portland, Oregon, which wasn't that far, but still made visiting a chore. Dipper did his best to recall the moments he shared with his friends throughout his teenage years, and smiled a little wider.

Gravity Falls had given him a purpose in life. And he wouldn't be who he was if it wasn't for Stan and Ford. They're still alive and kicking, even nearly twenty years later, and they were the same Grunkles that he knew and loved. He talked to them often on the phone, always asking for advice, which he hardly ever did with anyone else. Then…

He stopped. Dipper didn't remember when it happened, but one day, he simply…

Stopped.

Stopped calling, stopped visiting. He dropped contact with everyone he knew, and went on his way, never once glancing at their contacts in his phone.

_'...What happened?'_ Shaking his head, he reminded himself why he was in Maine in the first place. _'No...Now's not the time to reminisce about the past. What's done is done. I did what I had to do… And I had to let them go. I'm here for a reason, and it doesn't involve any of them.'_

With a firm nod, he made his way to the diner, determined to find the person he was looking for.

* * *

A bell chimed when he opened the door, and Dipper was relieved to feel the burst of warm air that buffeted his face as he stepped inside. The warmth, along with the smell of food lingering in the air, was enough to make him smile, wiping the gloom from his expression.

The place looked fairly typical. There was a row of booths with red leather seats lined up next to a long window, an old jukebox by the entrance, and the linoleum floor featured a classic black and white chevron pattern. The place was incredibly clean and well maintained- not a single stain in sight. There was also not a single person in sight, though he heard some people clattering around in the back. Probably the staff. He looked at his watch for the time.

**8:37 PM**

He did check the hours before he entered, and it said the restaurant closed at ten. He would've liked to have more people crowding this place, to be honest. He didn't want to feel like he was making the workers here stay longer than they had to. But, on the other hand, fewer customers meant faster service, so he couldn't complain too much.

Once he finished scanning the diner, he took a seat on a stool at the counter. He leaned forward, resting his head on his arms, and waited, careful not to fall asleep while he did. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

"Hello there, sir. How can I help you?"

Dipper very nearly jumped at the sound of the voice, but he managed to keep it together. Turning to his right, he found himself greeted by a raven-haired man making his way over to him from the other side of the counter. The man wore an apron over some casual clothes, and looked to be in his early forties. The nametag on his apron identified him as Harry.

Dipper cleared his throat. "Uh, hey there. I was, um, just wondering if I could get somethin' to eat? I've kinda been traveling all day, so...I mean, if you're not closing up right now, that is?" He winced at how awkward he sounded.

The man named Harry smiles. "Traveling, you say? Where are you from, sir?" His tone was kind, body language relaxed and patient.

Dipper clears his throat again, more forcefully this time, coughing into a fist once for good measure. "Frisco," He answers casually, willing his racing heart to calm down. Hopefully, he didn't seem as weird this time.

"San Francisco? Really? That's awesome!" a female voice came from Dipper's left.

This time, Dipper did jump, banging his knee against the counter. He turned around with a hiss to see a young girl wearing a waitress outfit standing next to him, a happily-oblivious smile on her face. Her blonde hair (which seemed to be dyed) was shoulder-length, and she was probably around seventeen.

"Were you born there? Did you drive over here? I've always wanted to go to California! What's it like over there? Do people that live there actually call it San Fran?" the girl asks with gleeful curiosity.

"Uh..." Dipper took a deep breath to calm down, and did his best to answer, despite how intimidated he was by her rapid-fire questioning. "Well, I was born in California, but not in San Fran. I only live there for now. People do call it San Fran, but most people just say Frisco, because it's faster, and rolls off the tongue nicely, I guess? I took a flight to New York, and I drove the rest of the way here." Dipper, inhaled, filling his lungs, then wondered why he was speaking so much to this girl that had nearly given him a heart attack. "I-I'm sorry, but do you work here?"

"Pfft! Uh, yeah? Did uniform give it away?" the girl asked teasingly.

"Heather, this is a customer," Harry said with a stern, but soft, voice.

"Ah, c'mon, Dad, you were asking if he was traveling too!" Heather whined, playfully stamping her foot on the tiles. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"We got another customer?" a male voice called from inside the kitchen.

"Ah man, I was ready to call it a night. I told Mary that I was coming home in a little bit," another male complained.

"Quit whining, guys!" Heather snapped at them (rather ironically, but Dipper doesn't plan on commenting). "Come on, we can serve one more customer!"

"Hey, I'm fine with serving one more person. You gotta ask James, though," a brown-haired man in his late twenties with an apron says, nodding his head at the blonde-haired man on his right.

James sighs. "Alright, alright. Just take his order already so Henry and I can fix it up." Dipper assumed Henry was the brown-haired chef.

"Gotcha!" Heather cheered, flashing them an eager thumbs-up. She turned to Dipper. "So, what will you have? How about our special? The famous Konami Burger, served with hash-browns on the side, and a slice of apple pie."

"Uh...Yeah, sure. That sounds lovely, thanks," Dipper said, with a small smile.

"Great!" Heather began scribbling on at her notepad. "Anything to drink?"

"Oh, um... Coke works for me."

"Comin' up!" Heather exclaimed, ripping the paper out of the pad and making her way to the serving chute.

Harry smiled at his daughter's pluckiness. "I gotta hand it to her, she knows how to work with people." He turned to Dipper. "You'll have to excuse her attitude, though. She's still a teenager, after all," the man said with a smirk.

Dipper smiled back. "Hey, I've been there."

Harry chuckled. "So, what brings you all the way over here to Maine? Wait, where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself! I'm Harry. Harry Mason. That young lady over there is my daughter, Heather. The cooks are James and Henry."

"Nice to meet ya. I'm Dipper."

"Dipper? That's a strange name. Why are you called that?" Heather asked, walking up to them.

"Heather, you know it's not polite to eavesdrop," Harry scolded.

Heather smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. But it is kind of a weird name. No offense," she said to Dipper. The man waved her off.

"Ah, nah, it's fine. It's, um… Just a nickname I'd rather go by," Dipper explained.

"Oh, I see...embarrassing first name?" Heather asked with a smirk.

"Heather," Harry said, an edge to his voice.

Dipper chuckled. "No, no, it's fine. Yeah, I have an embarrassing first name."

"Ah. So I'm guessing you're not gonna tell us, then?" Heather asked teasingly.

"Nope. Sorry."

Heather snickered. "Fair enough. If it makes you feel any better, my middle name is Cheryl."

"Huh. That's not so bad- it actually sounds kinda pretty."

"Pfft! Thanks. Blame my dad," Heather said with a roll of her eyes.

"He's right, sweetheart; it is a beautiful name. And it was almost your first name, too," Harry told his daughter.

"Oh, well darn," Heather drawled sarcastically.

Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Anyway, like I was asking earlier, what brings you to Maine?"

"Um… I'm just… meeting someone," Dipper replied vaguely.

"Really? Who?" Heather asked.

"Now, Heather, I think we've asked enough questions. I'm sure Dipper doesn't feel comfortable telling strangers about his personal life," Harry said, a hint of finality in his tone.

"Uh, heh...yeah. Sorry, Heather, it's pretty much a personal matter," Dipper confirmed.

"Hey, okay, that's cool," Heather said, hands up in surrender.

"Still, since you traveled all the way over here, how about you stay at the motel for the night? Not a good idea to drive when it's pitch-black out there- that's when the deer are most active," Harry warned.

"That's the plan, as soon as I get something to eat," Dipper said with a small smile.

"Great! I'm certain Mr. Cartland will get you a good room," Harry said.

"As long as he's not distracted by Mira," Heather says, rolling her eyes.

"Mira?" Dipper asked curiously.

"His dog. Smart little thing. Wouldn't be surprised if she ran the whole motel," Harry joked.

Heather giggled. "Yeah, she's such a cutie. She keeps ol' Doug in top shape, and makes sure he isn't sleeping on the job."

Dipper chuckled. "Sounds like you're all a lively bunch."

"Well, my Dad's always trying to make sure we know all about safety precautions and stuff. Especially me. He actually got me a taser gun for my sixteenth birthday." Heather laid a palm against her forehead, slightly embarrassed. "He is such a worrywart."

"Well, you never know, Heather. You could be abducted by crazy people. They could use you as a sacrifice for some crazed cult," Harry said defensively.

"Alright, no more crime dramas for you, Dad."

"I'm serious. People are nuts out there!"

"You know, you really should listen to your father's advice," Dipper said, his tone suddenly serious. "I've seen my fair share of cases on that sort of thing. You don't know what could be out there."

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully.

"Cases? Whoa, are you a detective?" Heather asked, interest piqued.

Dipper makes a wavy motion with his hand. "Kinda. I'm a private investigator."

"Awesome! Doug knows a couple of P.I.'s. You two can probably talk a lot about that!" The bell jingled once more. Dipper turned slightly in his chair to see who else entered the diner.

A woman, with blonde hair and a petite figure. She walked with a supreme air of confidence. Her hair came down to her shoulders, and she wore a long, black trench-coat, not unlike the one he was wearing - although hers looked much more expensive. She was also wearing a dark purple beret with a matching scarf. A rather bulky pair of sunglasses obscured the majority of her face. Further down, Dipper saw what looked to be pricey designer jeans and a pair of Ugg boots. Lastly, a red purse, the strap slung over her shoulder.

Dipper, Harry, and Heather blinked in unison.

"Um… Hello," Harry greeted her after a moment, struggling to find his voice. He seemed unsure how to speak to the woman, considering how suspiciously she was dressed. He finally settled on his usual warmth. "Welcome to Konami Diner. How may we help you?" Harry asked

The woman glances at Harry, a finger lowering her sunglasses so she could peer over the brim. "I need something to eat."

Heather raised an eyebrow. "Well… Okay..."

The woman stood there for a bit, staring at the father and daughter, then sat at the counter, two seats away from Dipper. She sat there for a few seconds, a scowl slowly forming on her face. "I need a menu," she finally snapped.

"Oh! Um, sorry!" Harry reached under the counter, grabbing a pamphlet, and handing it to her. She took it without a word, and began flipping through the pages idly.

Heather pursed her lips, not impressed with the woman's attitude. "Hm..." She turned back to James and Henry, "Sorry, guys, we got another customer!"

James sighed loudly, while Henry just shrugged. "I heard the bell. Just ask her what she wants," James said halfheartedly, voice colored with a trace of frustration.

Heather turned back to the woman. "Sorry about James. It's almost closing time and he wants to get back to the Missus."

"Hm. That's sweet," the woman replied blandly, not looking up from her menu.

Heather stared at her for a moment, her eyes narrowed in a slight glower. She managed not to snap back with a scathing comment, though. "Um… Yeah, it is… Would you like to try today's special? It's our famous Konami Burger, served with a side of hash browns-"

"Too fattening. I'll just have a regular house salad along with some balsamic vinaigrette dressing," the woman said bluntly, dropping her menu onto the counter.

Heather frowned. "Okay, then..." She wrote down the order. "That'll be easy for the boys. I'll give this to them right away."

"Hm," the woman grunted, examining her nails. "Oh, and maybe some water while you're at it."

"...Gotcha." Heather walked into the kitchen.

Dipper examined the woman for a moment. Despite her attitude, she certainly was beautiful, striking even. He even admits that his heartbeat quickened a bit when she came in.

"I'll go in the kitchen and check on your meal," Harry says, interrupting Dipper's thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, uh, thanks." Harry nods with a smile went into the kitchen to check on his order. That left both Dipper and the woman alone on their barstools.

Dipper sat there in silence. He really had nothing to do besides wait for his food. No one else was here beside the workers, him, and the pretty lady. He was a bit annoyed at his luck. Even after having finally lived through the hellish nightmare that was puberty, he still felt gawky around women. It was more than a little frustrating. He had hoped that he'd have gotten over that by now. But then again, it wasn't like he had a lot of practice in that area. After all, he spent most of his time buried in research or work.

It was very rare that he managed to get some time for himself. Whenever he did, though, he usually spent it lazing around his apartment, watching trashy TV shows. Over time, these habits of his had made him something of a recluse. Which, for the most part, he was fine with. The only real downside was that his 'people skills' had gotten somewhat rusty. Sitting there quietly, he decides to take another glance at the woman.

She was beautiful. Her face was flawless, skin free of blemishes. Her form and posture were very proper, and her hair was smooth and silky. She reached into her purse, pulling out an object; a handheld mirror. She opens it, and checks her reflection. She stares at herself for just a moment and frowns. Sighing, she closed the mirror and dropped it back in her purse.

_'Huh...you know...she looks kinda familiar,'_ Dipper thought, a little intrigued.

"Uh, can I help you?"

Dipper startled at the new voice. Blinking, he realized that it was the woman who spoke. She was glaring at him, daring him to say something.

"Um..." Dipper adjusts his glasses. "I-I'm sorry, you just look… Familiar, somehow."

The woman stared at him, unsure how to react to that. Finally, she decides on a scoff. "Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?"

Blinking dumbly, Dipper blushed a little. Getting his thoughts together, he shook his head and said, "N-No, I, uh, I was just..." He frowns. "Well, sorry. I just thought you looked like someone I knew a long time ago."

Her expression softened a bit. "...Hm." She turned her gaze back to the counter.

Dipper raised an eyebrow. 'Wonder what her deal is?' She may be drop-dead gorgeous, but there was no reason to be so rude… Actually, she was almost acting like-

"Here you are." Harry's voice snaps Dipper from his thoughts, that man placing a plate down in front of him.

Dipper, startled once more (to his embarrassment, he really needed to pay more attention to his surroundings), examined the meal. The burger was sizeable, and the hash-browns were baked to a golden crisp. His drink sat next to his plate, and he didn't know when it had arrived, because he was sure Harry had brought only the food.

"Hope you enjoy," Harry said with a smile.

Dipper smiled back. "Thanks! It looks wonderful."

"It should be," James called from the kitchen.

Harry chuckled and turned back to Dipper. "Your apple pie should be here right after you finish." He returned to the kitchen.

As soon as Dipper caught a whiff of his meal, his mouth began to water. Picking up the burger, he took a decent-sized bite, savoring the taste.

"So where are you headed?"

Dipper stopped eating, and swiveled his neck to stare at the blonde woman. She looked at him with a certain curiosity, like she wanted a good answer, but was expecting to be disappointed. Maybe she thought he would take this as a sign to hit on her again.

Chewing his food for a bit, he swallowed his bite and replied, "Uh… Why do you ask?"

"We're the only ones here. Might as well strike up a conversation," the woman answers, like it was obvious.

Blinking, he looked at her strangely. "Okay… Well… I'm heading towards a town."

Her eyes widened slightly. "... What's the name of it?" Dipper wasn't sure if he should tell.

_'Actually… I really shouldn't worry so much. I mean, I did make some enemies, but what are the chances of her going after me, or following me? And what are the chances of her being some sort of succubus? Besides, she just wants to know what town I'm going to.'_

"Hello?" the woman asked impatiently, irritated by the blankness on his face.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dipper decided to answer truthfully. "Silent Hill."

She seemed a little surprised. Within moments, though, it morphed into a barely concealed snarl of annoyance. "I see." She turned her attention back towards the counter.

Dipper's eyebrows nearly migrated to his hairline. "Um… Are you okay?"

It was then Heather came in with the salad. "Okay, one house salad! Here ya go!"

"Actually, on second thought, I'm gonna have that to go." the woman advises.

Heather blinked, and stared at the older woman for a couple of seconds. "...Alright then. No problem." She walked back to the kitchen, salad in hand.

"Did I offend you somehow?" Dipper asked, confused.

She whips her head to him, glaring at him over her sunglasses. "Don't patronize me."

Heather came back in, this time carrying a box. "Okay, here ya go. And here's your bi-"

"Keep it," she barked, yanking a twenty-dollar bill out of her purse and slamming it on the counter. "And keep the change, too." She grabbed the box out of a startled Heather's hands, and scurried out the door. Dipper eyes followed her in amazement.

Heather, on the other hand, watched the retreating woman with a furrowed brow. "Okay… Talk about weird. And, honestly, who wears sunglasses at night?" She glances at the twenty-dollar bill on the counter and smiles crookedly. "I guess she isn't so bad if she gave me such a huge tip!" Heather pocketed the bill, then turned to Dipper. "So, how's the burger?"

Dipper was still staring at the door behind him. "Um..." He shook his head and turned around, smiling at Heather. "It's great."

"Thanks! Hope you enjoy the rest, and the apple pie, too!" Heather said, returning to the kitchen. Dipper went back to his burger, but he could no longer taste it. Instead, his thoughts lingered on the woman who had basically run out of the diner.

_'...There's no way that was… Right?'_

* * *

After paying for his meal, Dipper drove his rental car to the motel parking lot, which was next to the diner. He shut off his car and stepped out into the cold night, but paused upon noticing the fancy sports car a few feet away. It made sense that that woman would have an expensive car like this. She did seem to be very wealthy, judging by her attire.

Dipper narrowed his eyes. "I wonder… I mean, she might be…?" He walked in front of the sports car, careful to stay a few feet away, and read the license plate.

He frowned. "Huh. NYBLDE… New York Blonde..." he mutters. Even the plate says New York.

_'Well, I know one thing; she's obviously from New York. She also must've already been here before I was. I think I saw her car when I drove up to the diner… Maybe this is all just one big coincidence...'_

He heaved a sigh and glanced at his watch.

**9:30 PM**

_'I think now would be a good time to check-in for the night,'_ he muses. He was exhausted, and that meal made him even sleepier. Dipper went back to his car, grabbing his dufflebag out the trunk, and headed into the motel. He got his key from Douglas at the front desk, said hello to his adorable pet dog, Mira, and went to find his room. He had number 6. Inside the room, Dipper dropped his dufflebag to the floor, then sat on the corner of his bed. He peeled his glasses off his face, rubbing at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Sighing loudly, Dipper rooted around his deep coat pocket, pulling out the letter once more, for what felt like the thousandth time.

* * *

_Dipper,_

_Do you remember that special place I used to dream of? The one I couldn't find? Well, I think I finally found it!_

_Come find me at Silent Hill, Maine._

_And be careful of the fog!_

_Love..._

* * *

He grimaced, folding the letter back up, and stowing it away once more.

"I need some sleep," he mutters.

Kicking off his shoes, he flopped back on his bed, still in his clothes, coat and all. He stared up at the ceiling, eyes finally getting heavy. He plucked his glasses off his face once more, this time laying them on the nightstand next to his bed. Dipper drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**_Dipper…_ **

**_Help me…_ **

**_I'm scared…_ **

**_Please…_ **

**_Help..._ **

**_Please… Find me… Find me…_ **

**Find me.**

* * *

Dipper woke violently, eyes snapping open. He bolted into a sitting position gasping loudly, drenched in cold sweat. He clutched at his chest, twisting the fabric of his shirt in his fist. Dipper shivered, shaking his head to dispel the fog of sleep that threatened to bring him back under. He fumbled for his glasses, managing to grab them without looking, and slid them on his face. He glanced at the alarm clock.

**5:30 AM**

Groaning, he rubbed his face in agitation. Nightmares were not uncommon- not after all the horrors he'd seen, ever since his first summer in Gravity Falls all those years ago. That didn't make it any less unpleasant when one woke him up before the sun rose.

"I need some air..." he muttered.

Getting up from his mattress, he jammed his feet into his shoes and threw open his room door, leaving it ajar. He leaned against the railing in front of his room, closing his eyes and relaxing a bit, breathing deeply.

The silence enveloped him. There were no sounds here. No crickets or birds chirping, no cars roaring down the highway. Soon, the sun would rise, and the world would explode into lively noise, but for right now, there was nothing except for Dipper and the gentle breeze that ruffled his messy brown locks…

**_Phssssssssssst…_ **

...And that. Opening his eyes, Dipper scanned the parking lot before him for the source of the noise. His eyes landed on his rental car, and the sound intensified, letting him know that he'd found what he was looking for. Confused, Dipper continued watching, and then panicked when the chassis began to sink.

Dipper rushed down the steps, and ran over to his car. As he got closer, feet pounding against the asphalt, a head popped up from behind the left side of the vehicle. A blonde head. Dipper stopped cold.

"...Huh?"

The blonde woman stared back at him, mouth hanging open in shock. In her hand, which he could barely see over the hood of the car, she was holding… A metal nail filer? His sluggish mind struggles to put the pieces together.

_'Flat tires + metal nail filer = …'_

"...Wait, what? Are you… Are you slashing my car's tires!?" Dipper shouted in disbelief. "With a nail filer!?"

The women dropped the file, the metal clanging against the ground, and made a mad dash to for her car. Dipper was quicker, zooming around his car catching up in no time, latching on to her arm with an iron grip.

"Hey! Let go!" The woman yelled. "You weren't supposed to be up yet!"

"Well, now I am!" Dipper shouted back, "Why the heck would you slash my car's tires!? It's a rental!"

"That's your rental car?" She struggled in his grip. "Tch! I would've picked a better one than that!"

"Who do you think you are!?" Dipper growled, more than a little peeved that she had damaged his car, and then had the audacity to insult him for choosing that one. He wasn't made of money!

"You...You don't know?" The woman stopped flailing, and stood there in stunned silence.

"Of course I don't know! Even though you do look fa...miliar..." He peered at her closer. She wasn't wearing her beret, and her scarf and gaudy sunglasses weren't covering her face. Realization flashed across her face, striking her at the same time it does Dipper.

"Wait..." Dipper muttered. He takes a step closer, but stops when the blonde raised her hand, brushing his messy bangs away from his forehead. Baffled, Dipper could only blink as she stared at his birthmark.

"...Dipper?"

"Pa...Pacifica?"

They stared at each other for a while, until Pacifica snatched her hand back as if burned. Which she very well might have been, considering how hot his face was.

"W-What are you doing here!?" she shrieked, redder than a tomato. Dipper might've made fun of her, if he wasn't sure his face was the exact same shade.

"Me? What are you doing here!?" he asked, astounded. She was supposed to be across the country!

"I asked you first!" Pacifica countered.

"I-..." Dipper shut his mouth with an audible click, teeth slamming against each other. His eyes dart around rapidly, landing on his decimated vehicle. He turned his gaze back to her. "First of all, why did you slash my tires?"

Pacifica winced. "W-Well, I...I thought you were someone else."

"Someone else?" Dipper pressed indignantly. "Who?"

"I thought you were..." She huffed in irritation and glanced at her boots, "...I thought you were just some dumb paparazzi reporter trying to get into my personal life."

"A paparazzi reporter," he deadpanned.

Pacifica blushed harder. "Alright, I answered! It's your turn- what're you doing out here!?"

Dipper's lips pursed into a thin line. He was silent for a moment, wondering if he should answer her truthfully. Finally, he decided to just be vague in his response. "I'm… Meeting someone." Pacifica looked at him oddly, her right eyebrow up, making it clear she wasn't satisfied by that answer. "What?" he asked defensively.

"I'm… Meeting someone, too."

Dipper blinked. "You are? Who?"

"Someone," she answered, just as obscure as him.

Dipper decided not to pry. "Um… Okay."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. "You… Said you're going to Silent Hill?" Pacifica finally asks.

"Huh? Uh...yeah."

"I am too."

Dipper's eyes widened in shock. "What?" he whispered, voice small from shock.

"Yeah. I...I have a letter." Pacifica reveals, staring at the ground.

"...Me too."

"Really?" she presses, head whipping up to meet his gaze, an intense gleam in her eyes.

Dipper takes a half-step back, unnerved by the glint. "Yeah."

Pacifica stared at him silently for a moment. "Who… Who are you meeting?"

Several emotions flash across Dipper's face. "...I can't say."

Pacifica gawked, obviously not expecting him to say that. "Why not?"

"I just… So, um, Pacifica, how are you? It's been a while."

She frowned. "You're changing the subject," she said, voice dangerously low.

"Yeah, well, you didn't tell me who you were going to meet, so I feel like I shouldn't say anything either."

"I told you, it was someone," she said, her tone getting a little defensive.

"I've never met a person named someone before."

"Yeah, well..." Pacifica cut herself off, face twisting with sorrow.

"Pacifica?" he asks, concerned.

"...What happened, Dipper?"

"What do you mean?"

Her expression colored with pain, then shifts into an angry glare that burns a hole through him. "What do I mean!? What do you think I mean!? You and Mabel haven't talked to me for seven years!"

Dipper's eyes blew wide. "Wha-?"

"Neither of you responded back when I tried to call you two, especially during… During..." Pacifica faltered, her eyes glazed with a thousand-yard stare. Dipper took a step forward, and laid a hand on her arm, only to have it slapped away. "Do you know what kind of hell I've been through these last few years!? Do you!? And when I needed you two the most, I got absolutely nothing!"

"What- whoa, Pac-!"

"What, was I not good enough to be your friend!? Was I just an annoyance!? You'd rather hang out with your other pals except me!? I mean, I know I have flaws and all, but you two could at least say it to my face when you decided to just drop me!"

"Pacifica-"

"No! I'm talking! Just… Why!? Why didn't you and Mabel contact me!? Was there something wrong with me!? I tried to change, I really did, and I thought I was doing good! But… It's like… Did you all just gave up on me?" Her voice was hysterically shrill, and her eyes start to water. "What did I do!? I'm sorry if I haven't lived up to your expectations!" she hiccups, "But I don't even know what I did WRONG!"

"PACIFICA!" Dipper hollers.

"What!? What!? What could you possibly say that makes this whole situation better!?"

Dipper stares at her, his eyes filled with sorrow behind his glasses, feeling ashamed for not keeping in touch for that long, while Pacifica also just stares at him with forming tears in her eyes, her anger slowly fading into something pitiful.

"...I'm… I'm sorry," Dipper said.

She stood there, her mascara running and making a mess as tears rolled down her face. She sniffled. "...Why, though? It's been seven years- why haven't you and Mabel talked to me for that long?

He was silent once more, trying to find the right words to answer her question. "Pacifica...I haven't really been keeping in contact with anyone since the beginning of my junior year."

Pacifica looks at him in bewilderment. "What?"

"Yeah… Well, actually, I still kept in contact with Grunkle Stan and Ford for a little while. They were the only ones I could reach out to after… Anyway, I… I haven't been keeping up with Soos, Wendy, or… Anyone, really, after college. It was… Then, three years ago, I stopped communicating with Grunkle Stan and Ford, and then..." His brows furrowed, looking a little troubled.

Pacifica blinked, unable to fully comprehend the sudden information overload.

Dipper's face softened. "So… It's not just you..."

Pacifica was silent for a moment. "...You… Weren't avoiding me?" Realizing how that sounded, she added, "And Mabel isn't as well?"

Dipper smiled, but it was strained. "No, of course not. For me... I'm a private paranormal investigator now. It's a pretty busy profession."

Pacifica stared at him blankly. "Really?" she muttered in amusement, lips lifting up at the corners. "That's, like, the most predictable occupation someone like you could've chosen."

"Heh. Well, I guess I'm just boring then." Dipper smirks a little and shrugs in good humor.

"No, it just means you're a nerd," Pacifica said, with her trademark haughty smirk- the one Dipper hadn't seen in years.

Dipper flashed the woman with a genuine smile. "Well, looks like you're back to normal," he teased. His smile faltered a moment later. "I… I really am sorry, though, for not getting in contact with you."

She stared at the ground, unable to look him in the eye. "...Well… I'm sorry that I blew up at you like that."

He shook his head. "Don't be. I've… Been kind of distracted lately."

She hummed in thought. "To be fair, I've been kind of busy, too. I live in Manhattan now. I own a luxury condo realty business, and I'm a part-time designer."

"Ah. You have been pretty busy, then."

Chuckling, Pacifica tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Dipper… Have you really never contacted your other friends and family for that long?"

He frowned. "...Yeah."

"...But, why? What about Mabel? Do you at least talk to her sometimes? How is she?" The parking lot when deathly silent. Pacifica, sensing the sudden shift in the mood, shivered a bit and rubbed her arm, tugging her trench-coat closer around her. "Dipper?" He remained silent, the grimace on his face filling her with dread. "Dipper… Did something happen to Mabel?"

"...Mabel's gone missing."

Pacifica staggered back a step. "W-What!?"

"She's… Missing," Dipper repeats solemnly.

"...W-...When-?" Pacifica stuttered, her heart leaping up her throat, choking her voice.

"...Seven years ago," Dipper said grimly, "She disappeared around May. The end of our sophomore year in college."

"Oh..." The pieces came together in her mind; that was around the time both Dipper and Mabel had cut contact with her. Pacifica's eyes widened to the size of plates. "Oh… O-Oh my… My gosh, Dipper, I'm… I'm so sorry," Pacifica apologized sincerely.

"You didn't know," Dipper replied simply, shrugging. His head, which had begun drooping at some point, lifted up so he could stare Pacifica in the eye. "I found a lead though."

"A lead? Really? After so long?" she asks astonished.

"Yeah… A tip, kinda."

"A tip? From who?"

"...From this." Dipper pulled the letter out of his coat jacket and passed it to her. Pacifica took it gingerly, unfolding it almost reverently.

* * *

_Dipper,_

_Do you remember that special place I used to dream of? The one I couldn't find? Well, I think I finally found it._

_Come find me at Silent Hill, Maine._

_And be careful of the fog!_

_Love..._

* * *

"...Love, Mabel?"

Dipper nodded. He pointed at the letter. "That's definitely Mabel's handwriting. If she… If she really is alive…" he choked on the word, unwilling to admit even the possibility that Mabel might be gone for good, "I dunno why she would go all the way across the country, instead of coming home. Maybe she was taken there, against her will. Maybe whoever took her is using her as bait. Maybe this whole thing is a trap, and I might die as soon as I get there. I don't know. All I do know is, if I don't go to Silent Hill, then I lose my only chance of ever finding her." His hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into fists, knuckles going white. His face hardened into a portrayal of pure determination. "Do you get it, Pacifica? I could find her." He heaved a heavy sigh, the tension bleeding out of his frame. His hands relaxed.

"I could find Mabel."

* * *

**Find me.**


	2. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Pacifica catch up with each other, all the while preparing to drive up to Silent Hill.

The two stood there in silence, facing each other, Dipper's note in Pacifica's hand. The glum expression on the blonde's face was mirrored by Dipper, but much more intensely.

"...I have to find her," Dipper said softly, gentle tone betrayed by the gradual tightening of his fists. A few of his knuckles cracked audibly.

Pacifica watched him somberly. "What… What happened to her?" Dipper shut his eyes, face twisting into a rictus of sheer agony. She winced at her lack of tact. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's okay," Dipper whispered, relaxing his features, opening his eyes to look at her. "She… There was a huge party, and almost all the students were invited, to celebrate finishing our exams, and the end of the school year. Mabel really wanted to go, so I… Dropped her off. She was super excited, 'cause she loves parties, but she was also crying for half the ride, because it was the last semester for some of her senior friends." He smiled forlornly, picturing her wide, watery grins. A moment later, though, the expression faded, and he sighed. "So, I dropped her off. She did her thing, I did mine. Later, when I went back to pick her up, I couldn't find her. None of her friends knew where she was, either. We looked everywhere, even called up campus security and the police, but… That was the last time I saw her."

Pacifica stared at him, mouth wide with horror, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She tried to say something, but the only thing that came out of her throat was a strangled croak.

Dipper's limp shoulders slumped even further at the noise. "I called Stan and Ford, and they drove down to L.A. Even with Ford's crazy tech, and Stan personally interrogating everyone he could get his hands on, neither of them could find anything." His brows furrowed in thought at the admission. "It's like she just… Vanished, without a trace." He dropped his head, eyes glazed with grief. "...I had to be the one to break it to my parents. Mom and Dad panicked, of course. They called the police, put up missing posters, even asked the local news stations to broadcast it." Dipper removed his glasses and rubbed the indents left on the bridge of his nose. "A few years passed like that. Just… Waiting for news. News that never came. After the second year, my parents were at least hoping that the police would… Find a body. After the third, Stan and Ford just... Told me to give up. To stop looking."

"What? Your Grunkles told you to just... _Give_ _up_?" Pacifica asked, eyes wide in shock. From her time that she hung out with the two old men, she felt like they would be at least the most dedicated on looking for Mabel.

Dipper nodded slowly. "Yeah… They said that, after so long, there was no chance. They couldn't force themselves to keep looking. They were just... So broken looking..." He slipped his glasses back on, and looked at Pacifica, resolve shining through the tears that filled his brown eyes. "They might've given up, but I haven't. I _won't_ give up. I became a paranormal investigator for the sole purpose of finding Mabel. I figured, if we couldn't find her the natural way, then it was time to try the supernatural. Seems like I was right, too." He gestured to the letter still in Pacifica's hand. For a moment, the two were silent. Dipper shoved his hands into his coat pocket to keep the cold from nipping at his bare skin, but the blonde continued holding the letter, the worn paper crinkling between her fidgeting fingers.

Finally, she worked up the resolve to say, "Dipper… From what you're telling me, she's been missing for seven years… I… It's not that I don't believe you can find her-"

"It's just that you don't believe I can find her," Dipper finished calmly. His facade was betrayed by the storm raging in his eyes, expressionless glare threatening to burn a hole through her forehead.

Pacifica flinched. "I'm..." She trailed off, head drooping in shame. "...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything,"

She looked like a kicked puppy, and it made Dipper sigh, curbing his anger. "No, it's fine. Look, I know it might be unlikely at this point, but… I'm positive she's out there. I know she's alive. Maybe it's that stupid twin telepathy thing, or maybe it's a hunch, but I know she's not gone. I can feel it. And that letter proves it."

Pacifica focused her gaze on the piece of paper, studying it. It did look like something Mabel would write. There was even an exclamation point with the dot replaced by a heart, next to the word 'fog'.

"Although… It could be a trap," Dipper admitted, with a little shrug, "But I'm certain that's Mabel's handwriting. No one could forge it like that- not with how cheerful she is. They'd end up vomiting rainbows."

Pacifica cracked a grin, but it faded quickly, swallowed up by the uncertainty churning in her gut. "Who do you think might've taken her?"

"...I don't know. There's a ton of options, but I'm betting it's either aliens or a cult. There's also the possibility that she traveled to an alternate dimension, but I'm really hoping she hasn't. Ford doesn't like portals that much, not after..."

Pacifica gave him a sad look. "You really think she's..." She was reluctant to bring up the topic again, but decided to simply go out and say it. "Still alive?"

Dipper frowned at her. "Mabel wouldn't go down without a fight," Dipper assured her confidently. "She's learned some skills from our Grunkles, and she always carried a few gadgets with her. She can take care of herself." He smiled tightly. "Also, Mabel can really pack a punch. I would know..." he muttered, rubbing at the phantom pain on his arm. His smile dropped. "Look, I know it seems impossible for Mabel to still be… Alive," he choked out, "After so many years, but… I know she is. Even if she… I need closure. I need to know what happened, find out where she was… Otherwise, I don't think I'll ever find peace."

Pacifica didn't know what to say to that. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, working her jaw while she tried to put together words in her mind. "...Do you...Want a ride?" she finally asked.

Dipper tilted his head quizzically. "A ride? Like, with you?"

"Well, I did pop your tires," she muttered, eyes flickering to the lopsided vehicle.

Dipper turned to look at his car. "Yeah, you kinda did," he said dryly.

Pacifica flushed, but didn't act on her indignance. "Listen, we're both heading to Silent Hill, right? My car's a Corvette- which they're pretty fast, if you didn't know- so chances are it could get us there even sooner," Pacifica reasoned.

Dipper looked unsure, "I dunno. I don't wanna be a burden..."

Pacifica sighed and rolled her eyes. "Dipper, you literally don't have a car. You're not gonna walk there, are you?"

"...Well… No, but..."

She gave him a consoling look. "Dipper, you won't be a burden. I'm sorry I got mad at you. I just needed to get some things off my chest."

Dipper held up a hand. "Hey, no worries. I deserved it." He scratched at the back of his head sheepishly. I… Haven't really been a good friend lately. Not only to you, but to Soos, Wendy… Heck, even Gideon," Dipper said, frowning as old, unwanted memories were dredged up at the admittance.

"I'm… Kinda in the same boat," Pacifica mumbled, cheeks turning slightly red. She clasped her hands in front of her waist, toe pivoting back and forth on the asphalt. Her eyes focused on Dipper's chin, unable to look him in the eye. "Maybe we can… Catch up, while we drive to Silent Hill?"

A smile tugged at Dipper's lips. "Yeah… That'd be nice."

Relief flooded through Pacifica. "Okay then!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly.

They stood that way for a while, simply smiling at each other, before Dipper realized how odd they must look to an outside observer. "...We should probably give our keys to Mr. Cartland, if we're gonna leave," Dipper suggested, breaking eye contact.

Pacifica's cheeks flared brightly. "Uh, right! Um, maybe we should, you know, get breakfast first? It's around six, and it sounds like we've got a long day ahead of us, so we're gonna need energy," Pacifica advised.

Dipper thought about it, "Hm… Some coffee might be nice. I don't want to hang around for too long, though- I gotta get back to searching."

"I'm kinda hungry, though," Pacifica said. "How about I see if we can get some fruit at the diner? We have to eat something."

Dipper smiled. "Sounds good. I'll give our keys to Cartland, and you get us that fruit and coffee. Deal?"

Pacifica chuckled, "Sure thing, Detective Mason."

Dipper's smile slipped off his face like it was water. "Is that what you're gonna call me now?"

"Hmm… We'll see," Pacifica said with a playful wink.

"Never should've told you my real name," he grumbled, shoving his hands further in the pockets of his trench-coat. "Well, two can play at that game, Blondie."

Pacifica snorted. "Real original there, Dip. Anyway, I'll be back." She turned around, and began walking to the diner. Dipper watched her go, but for the life of him, he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering down to Pacifica's posterior, which showed even through her long coat.

_'Nice.'_

Face burning, he shook his head rapidly, then turned and power-walked to the motel.

* * *

Pacifica entered the diner, slightly surprised that it was open despite the early hour, and made her way to the counter. She saw the cooks in the back, through the service window, along with that girl who took her order from behind the counter. She was tying her apron, pausing midway when she noticed Pacifica. For a moment, the young waitress simply stared at the blonde, but eventually forced a smile on her face.

"Oh, hey! Here for breakfast?"

"Um, yeah... Do you have anything to go?"

Heather blinked, "Yeah, of course! Omelets, breakfast burritos, crepes... Fruit?"

Pacifica smiled, "Oh good! Um...would it be okay if we-uh-I mean, I have some crepes to go?" Her smile became strained from the embarrassment at her slip.

The girl blinked again, a brow raised, but she seemed to notice something, because her lips curled up in a sly smirk, "Okay, how many, and with what fillings?" She grabbed a notepad and pen off the counter.

"Um…" Pacifica trailed off. Heather realized that the older woman probably didn't know what the options were.

"We have original cream cheese, fruit and cream cheese, and Boston Creme Pie," she said helpfully, grinning when she saw Pacifica's face light up. "We also have a special; two crepes for eighteen dollars, or three for twenty. So, what'll it be?"

Pacifica leaned against the counter, staring at the linoleum surface thoughtfully. "Alright, I'll take the two for eighteen. Fill one of them with the fruit and cream, then… What would Dipper want…?" she muttered under her breath. A moment later, Pacifica froze, noticing that she'd just said that out loud. Her head whipped up, and she looked like a deer in the headlights. Heather grinned widely.

"Well, a certain private investigator really liked the apple pie last night, so I'm thinking a Boston Creme Pie for him."

"What!? Wait-!" Pacifica protested, but Heather held up a hand, cutting her off.

"Hey, I'm not judging! Whatever happened between you and Dipper stays in the motel. I'm not changing any sheets, though."

"What!?" Pacifica screeched. "No- I- we, we didn't- it was- I mean-!" She stopped, inhaled deeply, then glared harshly at the waitress. "You listen here," she read the name-tag on the girl's apron, "Heather. Dipper is way too awkward to ever be able to handle an intimate relationship-"

"How would you know?" Heather challenged.

"Because I've known him since we were twelve!"

"Really?" Heather said in surprise, "Oh, wow! But, you were acting like complete strangers last night!"

"...Well, we… Haven't seen each other in… Seven years," Pacifica said, averting her gaze sheepishly.

"Whoa… What happened?" Heather asked, leaning further over the counter.

The movement snapped Pacifica back to her senses. She frowned at the nosy teen. "You know, you should be doing your job instead of counseling me."

"Oh! Right!" Heather wrote the order down, repeating it to herself. "One fruit-cream crepe, one Boston Cream Pie, and a coffee." She ripped the piece of paper out the pad, and handed it to James through the service window, who took it and got to work. She then turned right back to Pacifica. "Okay, keep going."

Pacifica stared at her incredulously. "Seriously?"

"She's serious," James replied from the kitchen, "Heather's a little chatty."

"Yeah, so maybe you gals can talk while we fix this order up," Henry said.

"Wha-? Don't you have other customers to attend to?" Pacifica asked Heather in disbelief.

Heather gave her an unimpressed look, then gestured around the diner. It was completely empty, save for Pacifica and the staff. Pacifica gawked at the bare seats, then turned back to a smugly grinning Heather, face flushed.

"Listen, even if I wanted to- which I don't, by the way- I… Can't tell you everything, alright? Besides, some of it is Dipper's business, and he probably wouldn't appreciate me talking about it behind his back."

"Oh, so it's private stuff, huh?" Heather said, a hand underneath her chin, propping her head up on the counter. "Hmm… Did it have something to do with all the yelling a little while ago?"

Pacifica was flabbergasted, "You… You heard that?"

"Not really. We come to work around five-thirty so we can open at six. We only heard yelling," Heather told her.

Pacifica shook her head in frustration, "Look, I was just… I was just a little angry with him, that's all. He hasn't contacted me in seven years, so I needed to vent a bit."

Heather looked thoughtful, "Hm… You do like him, don't you?"

Pacifica stared at her for a moment, then smacked a hand against her forehead, groaning irritably. "You know what? Yes. Yes I do. Are you satisfied, you nosy little girl?"

"Mm… Yeah, I think I am," Heather said cheekily, grinning at the older blonde. Pacifica growled. "Oh, I just realized I never asked you for your name! Sorry!"

Pacifica jolted at the topic change. "Really? That's what you're sorry for?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Hey, look, I'm not gonna say anything to anybody, not even Dipper. This is gonna stay between you, me, James, and Henry."

"And before you say anything, yes, we've heard you and Heather talking," Henry said, preparing the crepes.

"Ditto," James called from further back in the kitchen, cutting the fruit.

Heather smirked at their nonchalant responses. "Dad's still at home, working on his book, but he'll be here in around an hour. So, really, your secret– if it even is one– is safe with us. What happens in the diner, stays in the diner."

"...It's kind of a secret," Pacifica muttered, finally sitting down in one of the stools. "And I'll take your word on that." She paused. "The name's Pacifica, by the way."

"Pacifica? Huh. No offense, but that sounds like a rich girl name," Heather said, a brow raised.

"...It is," Pacifica replied grimly, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

Sensing she'd hit upon a sensitive subject, Heather cleared her throat. "Well, it's… Uh, a nice name, though."

"Thanks," Pacifica mumbled half-heartedly.

"...So… What brings you to this part of Maine?" Heather asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

The blonde thought of changing the topic, but decided to just give her some vague information, so the girl would stop pestering her. "I'm meeting someone in a town called Silent Hill."

"Silent Hill?" Heather asked surprised, but then smiled widely. "Really? Wow, what's the occasion?"

Pacifica stared at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Silent Hill's a resort town! I've only gone once, but it's one of the best places I've ever been to! It has a gorgeous lake, a really fancy hotel, amazing restaurants, and a ton of cute little shops. Oh, and an amusement park!"

"Huh… Interesting. It sounds like a nice place," Pacifica said, smiling a little bit.

Heather nodded emphatically. "Oh yeah, definitely! I went with my folks for my thirteenth birthday. We live in a town called Brahms, a little ways south of the diner. Mom's a police officer, so when she had the day off, we went to Silent Hill. Did some hiking, shopping, and we rode a few rides in that amusement park. It was fun!" Heather looked over her shoulder, into the kitchen. "James, haven't you visited the place before?"

"That we have," James answered, knife pausing as he began to reminisce. "Took my wife there three years ago for our anniversary- we had a great time. It's in a really nice, hilly area and the lake was absolutely beautiful. Everything was so quiet and serene..." James smiled softly. "It's a special place..."

"Thinking 'bout those good times, James?" Henry asked, a knowing smirk plastered on his face.

"Heh. Yeah… I gotta bring Mary back there someday," James answered, not rising to the taunt.

"Wow..." Pacifica said, a little impressed at how fondly Heather and James recalled the place. She relaxed a bit, the knowledge that it wasn't a shady place calming her nerves. "I've never heard of Silent Hill before. Is it, like, a well-kept secret around here?"

"Pretty much," Heather confirmed. "It's far up north, close to the Canadian border, with winding roads and all that. I remember complaining about how long the drive was, when me and my parents went, but Dad just called it the scenic route. Thinking back on it, he was right."

"Hm… Interesting..." Pacifica muttered, staring at the counter, lost in thought.

"So, you said you're meeting someone there?" Heather asked.

Pacifica straightened up in her seat, "Oh, y-yeah. Just… Someone." She giggled nervously.

"Hm… You know, Dipper said he was meeting someone as well."

"Oh, uh… Yeah, he told me."

"Really?" Heather arched a brow, "Huh… I figured it would've been you- old friends, and all." She paused for a moment, "Are you and Dipper, like, meeting the same person?"

Pacifica shook her head. "No. Dipper's going for… Someone important to him. As for me… Actually, I don't even know who I'm meeting," she said, a little stunned at her lack of foresight.

Heather looked equally shocked. "You… Don't?"

"No, actually… I mean, the letter said it was from..." Pacifica trailed off, her brain catching up with her mouth. She realized that she was saying way too much. "Er… I-I'm sorry, I… I don't really want to talk about this right now. I'm just meeting someone. That's… That's all."

Heather seemed a bit disappointed, but thankfully decided to let it go. "Well, alright then…"

The bell rang, signaling a new customer, and saving them from an awkward silence. Pacifica turned her head to the new customer to see that it was none other than Dipper.

"Oh! Hey, Pacifica. I, uh, paid for the rooms, so you don't have to worry about that later," Dipper said, with a shy little grin. When he saw Heather, he smiled properly. "Mornin', Heather."

Heather waved cheerfully. "Hey!"

Pacifica was staring at him with wide eyes. "Y-You paid for my room?"

"Well, yeah. I figured it'd be easier that way. Plus, it's only sixty dollars for each room, so for both of us it's one-hundred and twenty dollars. Plus tax. Which, I gotta say, isn't that bad for a place as clean and well-managed as this." He flashed Heather a thumbs-up, making the waitress giggle.

"Thanks. When we say 'Pleasant Times', we mean it."

"Y-You really didn't have to do that. I mean… I could've paid for it myself," Pacifica said to Dipper, heart fluttering a bit.

"Well, hey, I had to do something to let you know that I'm sorry for..." He glanced at Heather, and the cooks in the back. "W-Well, you know..." he finished sheepishly.

The blonde blushed slightly. "Oh, d-don't worry about that..."

Dipper smiled. "Heh. Okay, I won't. And hey, besides, being a-" he peered at the staff members again, "...private investigator certainly does pay well."

Pacifica smirked. "I bet."

"Hold on, are you two leaving today?" Heather asked. "By the way, Pacifica told me you know each other."

"She did?" Dipper's eyes widened, his gaze turning to Pacifica.

"I didn't say much. Just that we've been friends for a long time." She gave him a small smile. She turned to Heather. "And long story short, he's going to Silent Hill with me now."

"Ah, alright," Heather said, with a grin.

"Uh… Okay…?" Dipper mumbled, watching their interaction with confusion. It was a bit of a surprise, considering how stand-offish they had been just last night.

James popped out of the kitchen then, placing two boxes on the shelf of the serving window. "Boston Cream Pie Crepe and fruits and cream crepe to go!" he called, unnecessarily loud, considering they were only five feet away. He rang the bell, flashed a cheeky grin, and disappeared once more.

Dipper blinked. "Did you order breakfast?"

The blonde shrugged nonchalantly, "I figured you might appreciate something a little sweet." Heather rolled her eyes, but didn't seem to mind that her idea had been stolen.

Dipper, unaware of their conversation while he was in the motel, was stunned, "Oh...um, thanks…?" There was the slightest hint of red on his face. If Pacifica hadn't been watching him so closely, she would've missed.

"Yeah. I hope that's alright with you?" she asked.

"Y- Yeah! I mean...yeah. I like crepes. Crepes are nice. A crepe sounds really good right now," Dipper rambled, then ducked his head in embarrassment.

Pacifica smiled at the top of his head.

"As much as I'd like to give you the food for free, you do have to pay for it, so…" Heather smiled at them apologetically. "The total will be $18.24."

"Not a problem," Pacifica said, rifling through her purse. She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and gave it to Heather. She stared at the girl thoughtfully for a moment, before diving back into her purse. "You know what? Here's a tip for you and the cooks." She took out a fifty and a ten, giving them both to Heather, who looked at the money in shock. "You can divide those into twenties for the three of you." Pacifica lowered her voice to a mock-whisper. "And you can keep those extra two dollars for yourself."

Heather stared at the green paper in awe for a few moments. Then, she gave Pacifica one of the biggest smiles she'd ever seen. "You know what? You're not so bad."

Pacifica chuckled. "You're not so bad yourself, Little Miss Nosy. Thanks for the talk."

The teenage girl smirked. "No problem," Heather grabbed the take-out boxes, packed them into a bag, tossed two packages of plastic utensils, then set the bag on the counter in front of Pacifica. "Here you are! Enjoy!"

Pacifica smiled appreciatively, grabbing the handles. "Thanks! I'm very certain we will."

Heather grinned back, until she remembered something. "Oh, the coffee!"

"Way ahead of ya, Heather," Henry said, stepping out the kitchen to place a medium-sized paper cup of steaming coffee on the counter. "Made fresh. Thanks for the tips, miss." He nodded at Pacifica.

"My pleasure," Pacifica replied, responding in kind.

Heather shooed Henry back into the kitchen. "Thanks, Henry," she said loudly as he vanished from the sight of the customers. He grumbled, eliciting a laugh from the teen. Heather slid the cup of coffee over to Pacifica, saying, "You know what? Just because I like you, this one's on the house." She winked exaggeratedly.

Pacifica giggled. "Thanks. Maybe I'll come back some day."

"Please do!"

Pacifica chuckled. Holding on to the coffee cup and take-out bag, she stood from her stool, giving Dipper a sweet smile. "Shall we go?"

Dipper, who had been watching the scene, stupefied, was slow to respond. "Uh… Okay."

* * *

"You know… You didn't have to do that," Dipper said, sitting in the passenger seat of Pacifica's Corvette. He glanced around the interior of the car and was impressed. _'Very nice.'_

"What, pay for your breakfast? Well, call us even, since you paid for our motel rooms- even though the rooms were around eight times the cost of breakfast…" she muttered, exasperated. "Besides, crepes sounded really good. I'm gonna be honest, though; Heather was actually the one who picked the Boston Cream Pie for you. She thought you might like it." Pacifica looked at him nervously. "So… Do you?"

Dipper smiled. "Well, I haven't exactly tried a Boston Creme Pie crepe before, but I do like sweet things."

Pacifica smiled back. "That's good to know."

"Heh… But really, thanks for the meal, Pacifica."

"No problem. Thanks for paying for my room."

"Heh, no problem." Dipper then went ahead and cut into his crepe with the plastic knife. His eyes widened as he took the first bite, and it took him a few seconds to completely pull the fork out of his mouth. However, once he did, the goofiest grin spread across his face. He groaned in delight. "This…is so good."

Pacifica giggled. "Well, glad Heather and I chose the right thing!" She took a bite of her fruit and cream crepe, and moaned quietly. She chewed slowly, then said, "Wow… They really know how to make a good crepe… Better than the ones I've eaten in New York."

"Yeah, about that, when did you move to the City?" Dipper asked, cutting into his crepe.

"Um… A little after my senior year in college."

Dipper hummed in thought, "After college?" He took another bite of his breakfast. "What, didn't like Portland?" he asked jokingly.

Pacifica stopped cutting through her crepe, knife pausing halfway through the sawing motion. "...Not really," she muttered

"What changed, then? Did your parents decide there was too much rain, or something like that?" Dipper asked.

"Um… N-No..." Pacifica said, squirming in her seat uncomfortably.

Dipper turned his head to look at her, slightly concerned. "Is there… Something wrong?" he asked slowly, setting his utensils down on his crepe. Pacifica continued staring at her food blankly, thousand-yard stare triggering alarms in Dipper's head. "Pacifica?" He hunched over a bit, trying to get a good look at her lowered face.

"...My parents… They're… Gone," Pacifica finally choked out, tone flat.

Dipper's eyes widened at the unexpected revelation. "What!?"

"They… They're dead," she said softly.

Dipper was silent for a moment, simply processing the information. _'They…died?'_ He may not have been too fond of Preston, and he didn't have many issues with Priscilla(although he was a bit miffed that she had supported her husband conditioning their daughter like a dog), but hearing that they were gone… Needless to say, it was a shock to his system. As far as he knew, they were Pacifica's only family. She'd never mentioned any cousins in all the years they'd known each other. With them gone, she must've been so lonely… That was when he realized, it wasn't limited to just her parents. Mabel had disappeared, Dipper dropped off the map, and Pacifica had moved to Portland, away from all her friends in Gravity Falls. She might actually have been completely alone in her time of need.

_'Is that why she was so mad back there? No wonder...'_

Shame burned through him. He hadn't even considered that something might've happened to her- he was so caught up in his search for Mabel. He just assumed she would've been fine without him… What if she wasn't the only one? He pushed the thought away; he had to focus on the friend in front of him, not the ones scattered across the country. "...I'm… Pacifica, I'm so sorry."

Pacifica sat there quietly, poking at her crepe with her fork.

Awkwardly, he asked, "Um… You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but… How...?"

"...We were on vacation. They went hiking without me, 'cause I didn't have the right gear, and because I just didn't wanna go. They were ambushed by… Something. A monster, or a psycho, I don't know. Either way… They were dead when the park rangers found them." Pacifica lifted her head, lifeless eyes staring out the windshield, caught up in the memories. "Our butler, Jarvis, took care of me. He was born in New York City, so we decided to move there. I went for a business degree at NYU, and designed clothes on the side. And, you know, the rest is history, I guess..."

Dipper looked at her sadly. "Pacifica… Really, I'm so sorry. I had no clue you were going through all that. Not that that's an excuse, but…" His shoulders dropped, remorse and sorrow written on his face.

A hand on his arm made him look up at the woman. "Hey," she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips, "Don't worry about it. There's no way you could've known. And, even though they weren't the best parents in the world, they cared enough to get me into a college that I like- among other things." She withdrew her arm, resting it on her thigh. "I think... They'd be proud of me."

"I think you're right. I know I'm pretty proud of you," Dipper said seriously, gaze unwavering.

Pacifica seemed shocked. She turned her eyes to him, searching his face for any sign that he was lying. Upon finding absolutely nothing, the corners of her lips turned upwards and she lightly chuckled. "Thanks, Dip."

Dipper shifted a bit, face slightly flush, "Hey, no problem."

Pacifica placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully., "...You know… That day was when I stopped being an official Northwest. I'm my own person now. I don't anyone's expectations or standards to live up to. I'm… Free to do my own thing. No one to breathe down my neck, tell me what I can and can't do, or even say who I can hang out with." Her expression turned somber. "...It's… Kind of sad, actually. If… If they were still here… I wouldn't be able to live like this." She bit her bottom lip, eyes darting to Dipper. "Does… Does that make a terrible person? To be… Happy, that they aren't here anymore?" She cringed, "I mean… If they were… I wouldn't be who I am today..." She swallowed audibly, looking at Dipper anxiously, afraid of what his response might be.

Dipper blinked, and his features softened. "Well… I kind of thought they were stuck-up and snobby when I first met them, but... They're not my parents, so… I didn't know them that well." He glanced away for a second, then focused back on the blonde. "I mean, even if they were… Um..."

"The worst?"

Rubbing the back of his head, he muttered, "Well, I wouldn't have put it like that, but… Even if they were the worst… They're still your parents. You still loved them, right?"

Pacifica was silent for a bit, thinking.

"I mean, if you didn't, I wouldn't think less of you. Family's not perfect, and they were kinda…" He trailed off uncomfortably. "They still cared about you. They were just… Trying to do what's best for you, even if they went about it in the wrong way."

She stared at him contemplatively. "There was a part of me that wants to, like… You know, love them, but… I can't help but..." Pacifica frowned and turned her head away. "Dipper, I-I'm sorry, I… I don't really feel comfortable talking about this right now."

Dipper nodded. "Hey, it's alright," he assured her quickly. "I totally understand- nobody really wants to open up old wounds..." He leaned back in his seat, and for a few moments, the two were silent. Dipper glanced down at his forgotten crepe, then picked up his fork and knife. "Well… We don't want to let this get cold," he said, changing the subject. "We should finish this up before we start driving."

Pacifica nodded in agreement, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Of course!" she said brightly, "Especially since I'm the one driving." She smirked at Dipper, and his eyebrow twitched. He pointed his plastic knife at her.

"You know, you're the reason I'm in here. You can't complain."

Pacifica giggled, and they ate quietly. After a few bites, Pacifica said, "Did you know Silent Hill is a resort town?"

Dipper nodded, smirking at the blonde. "I did, actually. I did my research," he said smugly.

Pacifica decided to let it slide this time. "Really? Did you find out anything else, Detective Mason?" she asked teasingly, satisfied when he grunted in irritation.

"A few things. It's known for being a serene and quiet town that's surrounded by nature, and a ton of hills. Hence, the name. However..." Dipper frowned for a second, looking thoughtful.

"However…?" Pacifica repeated, urging him to continue.

He shook his head, "Nothing, it's just… Sometimes, these quiet, out of the way towns have these creepy backstories about their founding. The history behind Silent Hill, though, is kind of… Normal. Generic, even."

"Is...That a problem?"

"No, not really, but… These kinda towns usually have some kind of gimmick, that makes people want to come visit. Like, bigfoot sightings in the forest, or crop circles in a nearby field. Silent Hill doesn't even have a world's biggest rubber band ball."

"So? Towns don't always have to have some sorta bizarre attraction," Pacifica argued.

"True, but this is, again, an isolated rural area. They have to have something besides it being a resort town."

"I've heard that the lake is absolutely gorgeous."

"That might be true, but it's not really eye-catching, you know? Gimmicks and backstories aside, though, there's nothing exciting about Silent Hill's history. No scary stories, no monster sightings, not even a natural disaster or two. Absolutely nothing," Dipper put a hand on his chin. "It makes me wonder, if Mabel might actually be there, safe and sound… Or if it's just a waypoint for negotiations."

"A negotiation? For what?" Pacifica asked curiously.

Dipper shrugged. "Could be anything. I've..." He winced, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "...Well, I've made a couple of enemies during my time as a paranormal investigator. I'm pretty sure I've dealt with them, for the most part,, but it's entirely possible that they've got other people to deal with me. Like the time I've stopped a talking chupacabra from devouring livestock in Texas. Or the time I fought a biker ghost gang terrorizing an old highway in New Mexico. And there was that Leprechaun scamming people in Vegas… I always seem to only encounter weird stuff in the west. This is the first time I've been to the east side of the country, especially so far up north."

Pacifica blinked, astonished. "Wow… You really have been busy."

Dipper chuckled. "You know, normal people wouldn't believe a single word I say about these cases."

Pacifica shrugged, smiling. "Hey, when a ghost terrorizes your mansion and a demon steals your friend's face, you become a bit more likely to believe crazy stuff like this."

"Heh… Don't I know it. Speaking of crazy things, my hypothesis is pretty out there. Maybe Mabel has amnesia and went around the country to figure out who she is, and somehow ended up here in Maine. And maybe since I've made some enemies, they've seen her and… Taken her hostage..." Dipper frowned, "Well, that's my theory, anyways… I'm pretty hopeful though, as you can see. And sometimes...I just need a little hope...just so that I can find her. Wherever she might be." He took a bite of his crepe.

Pacifica stared at Dipper with a blank face, then tilted her head thoughtfully, eating her breakfast the whole while.

Once Dipper swallowed a few more bites, he said, "Either way, this Silent Hill never had a single reference to anything ever going wrong… And if that isn't suspicious, I don't know what is."

"...Well, it could just be a nice town. I mean, sure, there might've been a bit of small crime here and there, but… Maine's a nice state, isn't it?" Pacifica asked.

"...I just want to be cautious, is all," Dipper said. He looked back at her. "Which, by the way, means I'm obligated to warn you that you should be careful around whoever you're going to meet."

"Pfft! I can take care of myself, Detective Mason," Pacifica said with an aggravated pout.

Dipper rolled his eyes, "By the way, who are you meeting, anyway?"

"...A friend," Pacifica said cryptically.

Dipper looked at her oddly, but decided to not push any further. "...Alright." They went back to eating in silence. A minute or so later, though, Dipper said, "Thanks."

Pacifica blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden apology. "For what?"

He turned to her with a smile, "For giving me a ride, and … For forgiving me."

Pacifica was stunned. Her expression then turned a little bashful, "Well… I haven't really said I've forgiven you."

"Actions speak louder than words," he replied simply.

She stared back at him… And smiled warmly, "I'm really glad we met up again, Dipper."

Now it was Dipper's turn to act a bit shy. "Hey… I'm glad, too." They sat there for a while, just eating.

"...This is a good crepe," Dipper muttered.

Pacifica giggled. "Yeah. It really is."

Their hands moved on autopilot, dismantling the crepes in their respective laps, while their minds wandered.

_'I'll find you, Mabel. Don't worry… I will find you, even if it kills me,'_ Dipper thought fiercely.

_'...Will I finally be able to meet him?'_ Pacifica wondered quietly.

Neither knew what these meetings would bring, but they did know one thing; soon, they'd be heading to Silent Hill...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's a little build-up chapter before they go to Silent Hill. There might be another one like this, but no worries, at the end of that chapter, I'm certain Dipper and Pacifica will arrive! (lol, spoilers!) And sorry, but sadly, this will be last time we'll see the SH protagonist gang...but we'll be seeing other new SH characters in the story soon-ish! :D However, they will be altered a bit to work with this story. X)
> 
> But yeah, tell me how it is so far! Are you interested? Please do give me a review, fave, and a follow! Don't worry, things will get interesting in a little while. I just ask you all to be patient! ;)
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Until next time, keep on rocking everybody! ^_^
> 
> -TSP

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the 'P.T. Motel'. It stands for 'Pleasant Times'. XD And the 'Konami Diner' is the diner in SH1! ;) Which, yes, I used some SH characters in here. I hope some of their personalities are somewhat kept in check. XP
> 
> Also, Dipper and Pacifica won't be the only people that are visiting Silent Hill. As you can tell from the character tags, they'll be making their appearances really soon! :D
> 
> Well, that's all I have to say! Hope you enjoy what's to come! It'll get intense from here, but it'll still have that quirky GF humor we all know and love. :D


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